


skin of my yellow country teeth

by storytellingape



Category: Crash Pad (2017), Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Consensual Underage Sex, Foreign Exchange Student, Horny Teenagers, Kylux Adjacent Ship, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 07:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13519515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellingape/pseuds/storytellingape
Summary: HIGH SCHOOL AU. Stensland is the weird foreign exchange student, until his exchange program ends and he has to go back home to Ireland. Months later, his boyfriend Clyde pays him a visit.





	skin of my yellow country teeth

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so you know how people are part of a book club? The wonderful people in my ahem thirst club and I used to talk about a HIGH SCHOOL AU of these two, the instigator of which had been [maja_li](https://twitter.com/maja_li) AS ALWAYS. Then I was talking to [StaticRaining](https://twitter.com/StaticRaining) about it, and we ended up talking about Stensland the foreign exchange student and his BOYFRIEND CLYDE visiting him as soon as his exchange program ends. : ( The result is this. 
> 
> I will probably write a longish sequel/prequel. But for now, have some porn. I didn't realize until later on they were teenagers here, having sex. So if you're uncomfortable with that, please don't read. Clyde is 18 here though it's not explicitly stated. Stensland is 17. I don't know what I'm doing with my life. This is all I could write anymore. D: HELP
> 
> This one is for Viv with lots of hearts.

 

* * *

 

 

Stensland couldn’t believe his eyes. The last time he’d seen Clyde had been in school, that same afternoon he had to take a flight back home to Dublin. That was nearly a year ago, a lifetime, when Stensland still had his funny haircut that hadn’t quite settled yet, and a raging crush that could not be tempered even after Clyde had confessed he’d felt the same way. Now here he was, standing in Stensland’s hallway, a duffel bag of clothes at his feet, and an openly wondrous expression on his face as he ran his fingers over the peeling wallpaper on the walls. He’d arrived this morning without preamble, calling Stensland from a payphone near the airport, asking Stensland for directions while Stensland was getting ready for church, a tradition his mam insisted they kept despite not living the teachings devoutly. 

Two hours later and here he was, Clyde made flesh, a head taller than Stensland remembered him being, his hair longer now and close to his chin. He’d been Stensland’s only friend in America, next to Jimmy, Clyde’s older brother, the school’s star quarterback, shepherding him from class to class, and asking him about his home life after Stensland had let his guard down enough to speak more than two sentences around him.

Clyde had always been a bit of a mystery to him, aloof and quiet and always hanging out with the popular kids by the vending machine where his brother’s friends often congregated. It didn’t hit Stensland later that Clyde didn’t have any friends of his own, that being the quarterback’s younger brother, while it had its merits, also meant people avoided you on principle, especially if you were Clyde’s size and quiet and brooding. Jimmy’s friends were typical: loud and rambunctious, always causing trouble though Jimmy himself was a good guy. 

Still: it was high school. People stayed in their respective lanes until Stensland showed up with his nerdy backpack and his massive digital watch with a built-in calculator. 

They were barely dating when Stensland had to leave again for home, six months later when his exchange program ended. He’d expected this — whatever they had — to fizzle out and die a natural death, but over the last few months Clyde had proven himself loyal, messaging him everyday and sending him handwritten letters during the holidays, even going so far as sending him a care package when Stensland had told him how much he missed Boone County. He had a boyfriend, apparently, and some days Stensland couldn’t quite believe his luck, even when said boyfriend lived thousands of miles away and they’d barely done anything sexual before he left, unless that time during Halloween counted. 

“You’re here,” Stensland breathed. He’d been saying that repeatedly since Clyde had arrived, not quite believing it himself. He stepped closer and Clyde didn’t move at all, his back to the wall, and blinked down at Stensland before scooping him into his arms and kissing him clumsily. His hair smelled stale like wet leaves from outside, his face scratchy with the beginnings of a stubble, but he felt familiar in a way Stensland was only realizing — the circle of his arms, the steady hull ofhis chest, the way he rested his hands on the small of Stensland’s back and hauled him slightly up to his toes so they could kiss longer but no less awkwardly. 

When Clyde released Stensland, Stensland felt a bit dizzy, and he glanced up at Clyde to see his eyes brimming too, glittering with the brightness that came with lack of sleep and sheer exhaustion. He must have been jetlagged. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Stensland said, and then punched him gently on the shoulder, again and again. “Shite. I was just telling my mam about you and now you’re here! What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d come visit,” Clyde said, in that slow drawl that Stensland had missed hearing in real life. “This is me. Visiting.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Stensland rolled his eyes. He resisted the urge to cry though he felt light he might at any moment, all because he didn’t think he could contain his happiness. He was a big crier — crying at the drop of a hat at movies where any of the animals died, or when a sad song came on the radio that reminded him of his childhood. He’d cried the entire flight back home, and then for days afterward while he was convinced he would never be cured of his heart sickness, missing Clyde like he was missing an integral limb. 

Finally, after he’d been all cried out, his mam pried him out of bed and shoved him into the shower, before forcing him to attend mass where the sermon was all about how sometimes wanting something too much might not be very good for you. Stensland felt it was aimed at him. He gave the priest a sullen look but was properly chastised. 

Clyde was about to reach out for Stensland again, probably to hug him or kiss him or both, when there was a sound at the end of the hall and they looked up at the same time to see Stensland’s mam with an armful of fresh blankets. She had left for a few minutes to fetch them. Now she gave them both a Look that made Stensland’s face heat up, as if she’d caught them making out or worse, Stensland with his hand down Clyde’s pants which might actually be a possibility because it seemed like something he would do in the heat of the moment. 

“What on earth are you two still doing? Come on, then — guest room’s this way, Clyde.”

Clyde glanced at Stensland, sheepish, and then ducked his head before following dutifully in her wake. “Yes ma’am!”

 

*

 

Stensland crept into the guest room an hour after he was sure Clyde was settled. It was odd to see him in his house, dressed like he hadn’t accounted for the dull dismal weather, his body too big for the rickety bed in the guest room, dwarfing the furniture around him. Stensland’s mam was making them food downstairs and Stensland could already smell whatever it was she was cooking wafting up from the kitchen, pervading the air — probably a stew because she was a firm believer that stew was best no matter the occasion. She knew Clyde was Stensland’s… _special friend_ , and had given Stensland a look while Stenslandwas helping her sort the bath towels for the guest bathroom, like she knew, like all mothers did, what her son was thinking. Really, Stensland wasn’t going to do anything funny; he wasn’t even going to attempt. He wasn’t an idiot. Or, maybe he was, and his mam could envision the gears in his head already turning, which was why, Stensland thought, she’d decided not to let them room together after all even if that had been the initial plan.

“Hey,” Stensland said as he entered the guest room, taking great pains to shut the door behind him softly. 

Clyde glanced over his shoulder. He was peering through the floral drapes, looking speculatively at the view of the street outside, fringed by the ferns his mam kept in a plant box outside the window. He smiled faintly at Stensland. His head almost touched the low ceiling, and he had to hunch his shoulders more so than usual — he looked…out of place, here in their little house with the lawn untended and crowded with washing, in this village precariously balanced on the stony edge of the moor, far away from the smoke and mess of Dublin. 

“Hi,” Stensland said. They looked at each other awkwardly, standing there and doing nothing, until Clyde sighed and sat down on the bed, his back against the wall. The room used to be storage space where Stensland’s mam kept dad’s stuff after the funeral. When Stensland was twelve, she decided to redecorate and remove traces of him from the house, storing everything in boxes with the exception of a photograph of them on holiday after their wedding. It sat on the mantel next to an ornate vase of flowers and the few accolades Stensland had earned in school. 

The room looked different now, painted a sage green, housing a single bed covered in a tumult of mismatched quilts, a wardrobe and nightstand where a lamp with a bendable neck sat gathering dust. Clyde was their first guest in years. It seemed somehow fitting. 

Stensland sat down next to him, gingerly, near the foot of the bed.He felt like he ought to say something grand to express how grateful he was that Clyde was here. He couldn’t imagine the lengths it took to travel all the way from Boone County, West Virginia, how Clyde must have worked his arse off bussing tables and taking as many shifts as he could at the autoshop. 

Now the dwindling number of calls made sense. Stensland had upset himself, thinking Clyde was already sick of him, that the luster of him being the exotic foreigner had started to wear off. He often had dreams like these even during his short stint in Boone County; he was afraid Clyde would discard him like dirt after coming to his senses about Stensland being too much of a mess, a fact Stensland had already recognized in himself with his random bursts of anxiety and complete self-awareness of being the only redhead for miles.

Stensland smiled at Clyde tentatively, worrying a piece of loose thread from the bedding with his fingers. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, feeling silly about repeating it. But it was true: no one had ever liked him this much to travel halfway across the world to see him.It was the stuff of movies, of romantic novels. It didn’t happen in real life, much less to some dumb kid from a little village in Ireland. 

“I did promise to visit you,” Clyde told him.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!”

“Why not?” Clyde looked genuinely confused. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

“Yes, that _is_ true, but.” Stensland bit his lip. He couldn’t quite explain it to Clyde. They were just teenagers, he sometimes felt. And this was just a phase, he was sure, no less meaningful, but fleeting and ephemeral .

Clyde broke into a long yawn. He scooted toward a corner of the bed, rolling on his back so Stensland had to manuever around his feet which hung off the edge of the mattress. Clyde patted his shoulder, an invitation for Stensland to crawl into his arms, so Stensland did, inelegantly, kicking off his shoes and feeling oddly shy even as Clyde wrapped an arm loosely around his waist and rubbed his nose against the side of Stensland’s cheek, breathing him in until Stensland laughed and swatted at him. He’d always been affectionate, especially in the days leading up to Stensland leaving. Stensland tried not to moan in happiness, and buried his face in the worn fabric of Clyde’s jumper, which smelled just like him but also laced with the heady scent of having been on the road long enough. 

“Remember that night, before I left?” Stensland said.

“Hmm?” Clyde was already half asleep, blinking one eye open before closing it and pressing a kiss to his temple. He slid a hand under Stensland’s shirt. He didn’t seem to be aware he was doing it, tracing a lazy pattern up Stensland’s spine, making him shiver.

“In the basement,” Stensland continued, “At your house. Jimmy was away at practice and we turned the TV on to full volume.” 

Clyde was watching him, when Stensland glanced up. “Yeah?” he said, then his cheeks reddened as he suddenly remembered “ _Yeah_ ,” he repeated. He dropped his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes, rubbing at his face and groaning. 

“I, erm, I thought a lot about that night,” Stensland said.

Clyde looked at him disbelievingly. “Really?” he said.

Stensland nodded, flushing. It wasn’t — the _best_ encounter, granted, but it was a good memory to have on those long nights when even the sight of a hairbrush made him horny, thinking about Clyde touching him in the dark while they had the whole house to themselves, there on the filthy sofa in the basement where Jimmy had probably fucked dozens of girls, and Stensland’s traitorous thought that maybe, Clyde would too, _eventually_ , to keep up the Logan tradition, plowing him like Stensland had seen some beefy guy do in a porno, his sock-covered feet bobbing in the air, his hands clutching Clyde’s broad sweaty back. In reality, they came too soon after minutes of lazy grinding and spent the remaining afternoon kissing and playing video games, eating their weight in crisps until Jimmy started pounding on the basement door and called Clyde up for dinner.

Stensland had gotten a little hard, thinking about it again, and slung a leg around Clyde’s thigh in response. He knew Clyde could feel his erection; he’d be embarrassed except right now he was really fucking keen on getting dicked. He had never seen Clyde’s cock before, from their limited encounters, but knew it was going to be massive; Stensland had felt it several times whenever they were making out, nudging his hip, or pressing against his thigh, or when he none too discreetly deposited himself in Clyde’s lap and pretended it was an accident and simply never left. 

“Stens—“Clyde said. His voice was low and breathy and his hand, already under Stensland’s shirt, moved from his back to cup Stensland’s chest. Clyde had a — _thing_ about Stensland’s chest, skinny and pale as it was. He thumbed a nipple and Stensland whimpered, biting his lip when he remembered how thin the walls were at his house. He didn’t want his mam to kick his boyfriend out but at the same time he wanted Clyde to kiss his nipples which felt taut and sensitive all at once, needing stimulation. His entire body felt raw, like the barest touch would undo him. Probably it had a lot to do with the fact he hadn’t touched himself in weeks due to having to study for midterms. 

“I really wanted you to, erm,” Stensland said. “Fuck me before I left.” 

“What?”

“I did! I —“ Stensland rolled his eyes at himself. “I was throwing myself at you, practically. But you didn’t notice! You kept redirecting my hand when I tried, you know, grabbing your dick. I thought you didn’t want me.”

“I always want you, Stensland,” Clyde said, frowning at him, but also looking half-amused. He shook his head. “C’mere,” he said, though he was already rolling onto his side so he could pull Stensland forward, to him, cupping his face before kissing him, slow and wet. He pressed their noses together, bit Stensland’s lip gently, and Stensland wondered how he’d gotten so good at kissing when he shouldn’t have had any practice in the time they had parted. He was almost annoyed and had to fight off the hot slice of jealousy, but then Clyde kissed him again and stroked his back and he’d forgotten all about why he was so annoyed in the first place. 

Stensland was panting by the time Clyde was through with him, a leg wrapped around his waist, while Clyde’s hand squeezed his arse in pulses. They were both… _compromised_ and Stensland wanted nothing more than to tear his clothes off and offer himself like a prize, have Clyde’s big stupid mouth on him, everywhere, his teeth. 

The door rattled suddenly and Stensland turned around, already guilty, scrambling out of bed and stumbling into his shoes to make himself look more presentable. Clyde simply sat up and put a pillow over his lap, before fixing his hair. When the door opened, Stensland was bent over, tying on his shoelaces. Clyde was faced innocuously in his direction,so it looked like he was staring directly at Stensland’s arse.

“Food is ready,” Stensland’s mam announced, standing in the doorway with her eyebrows raised. She didn’t seem all that surprised to see Stensland there. In fact, she looked like she had expected it, which was even worse. “Come on, then. Clyde, Stensland.” She gave Stensland a pointed look before turning on her heel and stomping off. 

*

Stensland paid Clyde another secret visit the second he knew his mam was asleep, judging by the late hour and the fact all her favourite programmes had already ended. He tiptoed across the hall, careful not to step onto spots on the floorboard he knew creaked. When he opened the door to the guest room, he was disappointed to find Clyde already fast asleep, one arm folded behind his head so that the pale underside of his arm showed. It made him seem more vulnerable somehow, his hair an avalanche across his sleeping face. He was in a tatty t-shirt with the name of a band Stensland didn’t even recognize and a pair of worn jogging pants. 

Stensland was in pyjamas because he was respectable and liked comfort. He slithered his way toward the bed, almost tripping on the duffel Clyde left lying around on the floor, half-opened to reveal its contents like a snaking tongue.

Stensland sat on the edge of the bed, intent to wake him, but then he thought better of it and climbed next to him instead, pulling the covers up around them. He pressed his head to Clyde’s chest and had almost dozed offwhen Clyde hummed awake and squeezed him in his arms. “What are you doing here, Stensland? I thought you were banned.” His voice was froggy with sleepy.

Stensland snorted and rolled his eyes. Of course Clyde wouldn’t be expecting him here, not after Stensland had told him his mam knew they were maybe sort of dating and warned him not to do anything she wouldn’t do. 

“How?” Clyde had asked. 

“I’d told her,” Stensland confessed. Even if he hadn’t, she’d be able to tell from the way they looked at each other across the dinner table anyway, or how they bumped elbows and touched unnecessarily when they did the dishes afterwards, giving each other secret glances when they thought she wasn’t looking. She didn’t have to look; she knew Stensland like the back of her hand.

“We can be really quiet,” Stensland told Clyde, whispering. 

Clyde shivered, slapping and rubbing at his ear, giving Stensland a dubious glance. 

“Stensland,” he hissed, keeping his voice low out of respect for Stensland’s mam, probably. “Are you really here for — what’s this?” Clyde glanced down at the tube Stensland pressed into his hand. Lube. Which, yeah, Stensland had been saving for this occasion. It was the special kind, extra slippery. He’d used it once and loved it, would have sent Clyde a video of himself jerking off if Clyde wasn’t so weird about technology and the internet altogether. He was convinced their messages were being monitored, but even if they were, Stensland doubted anyone cared enough to leak his nudes. He never showed his face in any of them anyway, a nipple, once, and a naked thigh. But that had been the extent of it. Most of them were silly little pictures of him at random points during the day, doing the shopping, or lounging indoors, while Clyde’s were mostly blurry affairs taken while he was at the gym, or the auto show, always frowning.

“My mam might not feel so charitable in the next few days so really this is our only chance,” Stensland explained, feeling feverish even as he said this, like someone else had taken over his body and was saying these for him.“Are you going to fuck me or not?”

“ _Stensland_ ,” Clyde groaned.

“I’m ready,” Stensland insisted. “I really am! I erm, I bought a couple toys off the internet. You know, those erm. Toys, the one with the — yeah. So anyway, heh, I’d sit on them sometimes after you called me. I have this big one that’s my favourite. I’d stick it on the wall and erm, fuck myself on it.” He left out the part where he imagined it was Clyde’s dick he was impaling himself on, or how hard he usually came even when he barely touched himself, straight out of school still half in his uniform, wishing Clyde was holding him by the waist and plowing him like a bull, pumping him full of come until he could barely hold himself upright from how full he felt. He had elaborate fantasies of this happening. In Boone County HS, they weren’t made to wear a uniform, unlike Stensland’s school which was strictly Catholic and exclusive for boys. He often imagined Clyde in one of the uniforms himself, striped tie and slacks and crisp white shirt, curved behind him and making Stensland take his dick, with Stensland still wearing most of his uniform, the tie touching the ground like a noose, his pants and underwear pooled around his ankles, his palms bruising on the rough pavement. 

“Shit,” Clyde breathed. “Don’t say stuff like that, Stensland, you know how I get.”

“That’s the point,” Stensland muttered. He tugged coyly at the hem of Clyde’s shirt. Clyde said nothing for a long moment and Stensland was afraid he’d misread the whole situation and he was going to get kicked out, but then Clyde glanced at the door and licked his bottom lip and Stensland knew he had him. 

“Did you lock the door?” Clyde asked.

“Yeah,” Stensland smiled.

This time he felt Clyde’s hot breath on his mouth before the kiss, and managed to part his lips before Clyde touched them with his own so he felt Clyde’s teeth. They kissed for what felt a long time, until Stensland was hard, harder than he ever remembered being in his life, his stomach shivery with excitement. He nodded against Clyde when Clyde had asked him in his slow seeking way if he could take Stensland’s clothes off. “Please,” Clyde said. Then he knelt and tugged Stensland’s shirt up to his armpits, bending down to suck on his nipples, making Stensland whine, before pushing Stensland’s shirt off his head and pitching it across the room. The pajamas came next, along with Stensland’s underwear which was already embarrassingly sticky with precome. 

Stensland kicked them off his ankles, then he was absolutely starkers, and he was glad the room was poorly lit, the pale glow of street lamps outside making his skin seem almost paper-white and pale. He shivered as Clyde continued staring at him. 

“What?” Stensland said. “Say something.” 

“You’re beautiful,” Clyde said. He sounded awed.It was ridiculous, but Stensland ate it up entirely. Clyde looked at him like he meant it, like he was sure of it, sliding his hands up Stensland’s ankles, then his calves, running his wet tongue up his thigh, lifting Stensland’s knees as if he already knew what to do even without Stensland saying it. 

“What do you want?”

“I, erm,” Stensland said eloquently, feeling awkward with his knees spread wide and his toes pointing upwards to the ceiling, like his cock. He let his head fall on the pillows, bit his lip hard. Clyde’s breath near his balls was distracting. His hair tickled the inside of Stensland’s thighs. “There’s this erm thing I saw online, where the guy erm, he, put his mouth on another guy’s arsehole, and the guy seemed to — shite!”

“Shhh,” Clyde chastised, patting him on the thigh. “Be quiet now.” It was easier said than done when you weren’t on the receiving end of a tongue up your bum. It felt…weird, frankly, and wet, very wet, but also it felt pretty good. Stensland didn’t realize he was moaning until he felt Clyde tapping the pad of his finger against his rim and then there was the faintest pressure of his tongue circling him once more.

“Like this?” Clyde asked, as if Stensland’s dick wasn’t spitting out more pre-come and he wasn’t lolling his head back and forth like he’d been drugged. 

“Y-yeah. That f-feels good.” Stensland arched forward, and if he humped Clyde’s face a little, he couldn’t be faulted. Clyde was good with his mouth, it turned out, but he was even better with his hands when he started fingering Stensland in earnest, an erratic rhythm that made Stensland’s cock twitch and the breath whoosh out of him in shaky gasps. Stensland had three slick fingers up his bum and Clyde’s mouth latched onto his left nipple when Stenslandstarted to come, burying his face into Clyde’s hair to muffle his pathetic little sob. He’d come so hard even without Clyde touching him, and Clyde still had all his clothes on, and was still hard in his pants. He must have the self-control of a saint. 

Stensland’s skin felt electric, tight, still raw. And he still wanted that dick in him no matter the capacity, despite having already come. 

When Stensland had come down from his high, Clyde kissed him again, wetter this time, thankfully not tasting of arse, and Stensland pulled impatiently at Clyde’s clothes till he was naked too and gloriously so, stretched out on top of him like a massive blanket, warm and taut. The difference in their body mass was astounding and almost laughable. Clyde obviously took care of himself, and it showed in the breadth of his shoulders, the muscles in his back. Meanwhile, Stensland still fit into the clothes he wore in year three, and his wrists fit completely in Clyde’s hand. 

Clyde pushed himself against Stensland, starting a slow grinding rhythm that had Stensland hard again within minutes, kicking his legs apart so that he could feel Clyde’s gigantic dick against his inner thigh. He pushed back, and the bed started to creak, Clyde grabbing the headboard for traction while Stensland held onto his thick waist. 

“Shite,” Stensland breathed. “Shite, shite, shite, shite.”

“What?” Clyde said, pulling back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Stensland said. “I just.” He shut his eyes and let out a pitiful whimper when Clyde rolled his hips and bucked forward. “I think I’m ready. For like. The complete experience.”

“What?”

“The anal experience,” Stensland clarified. “Penetration.”

Clyde looked like he wasn’t sure whether he should laugh. If he did, Stensland would hate him. No, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d still let Clyde fuck him whether he laughed or not, and even if he did Stensland wouldn’t like him any less. “You’re so weird,” Clyde said, but he was leaning back, on his knees again. He reached out for the lube on the nightstand, coating his fingers, watching Stensland closely in the dark like he expected him to change his mind. “Now?” he said.

Stensland nodded before he could change his mind.They didn’t have condoms, but neither of them seemed to mind. It was risky, but. Stensland thought the risk made it even sexier. 

Clyde fingered him again to prep him, and it took maybe half an hour before Stensland was ready to take his dick, already half asleep from having come again on Clyde’s fingers and only jolted back to consciousness with every tentative press of Clyde’s cockhead. He was big, truly big, and Stensland realised his fatal mistake: he had accounted for length but had failed to account for girth. 

Stensland knew he was going to be gaping by the end of it, but when Clyde pressed forward, all the way in, suddenly it didn’t seem to matter. He let out a yelp, and they groaned simultaneously, Stensland banging his fists against Clyde shoulders out of a lack of a better thing to do. It hurt, gods did it hurt, but it also felt good, to finally feel that fullness inside him. There were tears leaking from his eyes but they dried soon after Clyde pulled himself out halfway. Then he thrust in again, and Stensland whimpered, on and on like a kicked puppy, until something changed, maybe in the angle of his thrusts, or Clyde’s pulsing rhythm, to make him start panting like a dog and seeing stars.

“How is it?” Clyde said. “Shit. Stensland. I’m — am I hurting you?”

“No, no, fuck, Clyde, keep going — ah, it’s good. I feel good.” He tried his best to keep his voice down, but yelped when Clyde closed his hands around his thighs, spreading them wider. His toes were curling. That normally was both a good and bad sign; he could feel the head of his cock leaking precome and was almost tempted to ask Clyde to lick him there, root to tip, before swallowing him whole. But he couldn’t even speak.

“Yeah?” drawled Clyde. “You like that Stensland?”

Stensland nodded, dazed, and sighed when Clyde bottomed out. He could barely breathe, brain wiped clean from any other thought but taking Clyde’s cock. He felt boneless and weak, small under the weight of Clyde’s body, his fingers tightening into the tendons of his shoulders as Clyde pulled out all the way so he could enjoy the hot drag. He decided he liked this, could love this, and would want this everyday if he had any say in the matter for the rest of his life. 

“ _Come on_ ,” Stensland urged, kicking his heels against Clyde’s back like he was a pony. “Want you to fuck me. Really fuck me.”

“B-baby,” Clyde groaned, even as he ground his hips against Stensland’s, making him whine and throw his legs up. “Don’t wanna be hurtin’ you.”

“You’re not going to,” Stensland said, and almost laughed deliriously. “Trust me. Come on Clyde Logan, show me what you’ve got.”

Clyde lost it a little bit after that. He started pounding Stensland with everything he had, widening his stance so he could sink deeper, fuck him harder, his pace punishing and almost manic, as he buried himself always to the root. They could hardly keep the bed from creaking; Stensland was sure they were going to break something, if not themselves. Clyde’s balls were slapping hard against his arse, and Stensland could do nothing but simply take it, gasping in little bursts with his knees pinned to his chest, his fists clenching and unclenching reflexively in the sheets. 

Clyde leaned forward to kiss Stensland, letting go of his grip on his knee to cup his face, trapping Stensland’s hard dick between their bodies and rubbing his abs against it. Stensland could only moan weakly and lick at his open mouth, his hips rising feebly to meet Clyde’s short snapping thrusts. 

“Fuck,” Clyde grunted, hair hanging crazily over his face. “Fuck yeah — Stensland, baby, here it comes—”

“Yes,” Stensland moaned. “Yeah. _Give it to me._ ” He felt Clyde grind his orgasm into his arse, the silky hot rush of it making him come like a geyser, all over his chest, before deflating into a brainless heap on the bed, tongue too thick in his mouth. 

Clyde’s thrusts had slowed down but he was still coming. When it stopped, and he slumped down next to Stensland on the bed, squeezing his knee, Stensland felt his arse cheeks spilling come, smearing the sheets. He felt… open, spread. Almost vulnerable. He heard the windowpane rattle against the breeze outside, and listened carefully for any creaking in the hall. He’d lost his virginity, he thought. A minute later, and he felt Clyde tug him into his arms and start kissing his hairline, and then Stensland was squirming and rubbing his thighs together before folding into him like a deck of cards. He could get used to this, he thought. This pleasant ache after sex. And it was stupid, but when Clyde was around, like this, he felt invincible, like nothing could go ever wrong because Clyde would be there to protect him against it. 

Clyde smelled like sweat, like sex. He kissed Stensland slowly, playing with his hair. “I like you a lot, Stensland,” he said, sleepily, eyes already half closed. “You do know that right?” He searched Stensland’s face like he wanted him to know that it was important.

Stensland nodded, heart lodged in his throat. “I know,” he said. And then: “Thanks for fucking me.”

Clyde started to laugh. “You really are strange.”

“What? It’s true — and yeah, I guess thanks for coming to visit me. How long are you here for?”

‘Just a couple of weeks,” Clyde said. He sounded wistful. “And then, I don’t know.”

“And then it’ll be my turn to visit you,” Stensland promised. 

Clyde looked dubious. “You don’t have to. I can come back, maybe next year.”

_I miss you already_ , Stensland thought, and _you haven’t even left yet_. Not wanting to sounding so maudlin, he said instead, “So where’d you learn to fuck like that?” He must’ve sounded a little peeved because Clyde squeezed him and did something to Stensland’s collarbones that made him shiver to his toes and make a noise like a small animal. 

“Porn,” Clyde said eventually, sounding embarrassed after they had properly cuddled and prodded teasingly at each other. “Jerked off a lot when you left. It — was kind of a problem.”

Stensland nodded. He could relate to that. The toys were a big indication of that.

They lapsed into silence, and Stensland almost fell asleep until he remembered he shouldn’t even be in the guest room. It was difficult to pull himself out of bed especially since Clyde kept dragging him back by the waist, the wrist, then finally the ankle, until Stensland had to hop around the room to dislodge himself from his unnaturally firm grip. He put his clothes back on and slunk back into his own bedroom, watching the light outside change to the paleness of wintry dawn. He woke to the sound of his alarm clock, and frowned when he remembered he still had a few days left of school before the holidays. 

Stensland still smelled like sex, and spunk, so a hot shower was probably in order. He didn’t feel like facing his mam in this state. Somehow, he knew she would be able to tell he just got the dicking of the century. He didn’t want to risk it. 

When he padded into the bathroom, he found Clyde already in there with the door half open. He was washing his face, water running in the sink, his hands cupped under it. Even though there were fresh towels on the shelf, he yanked the hem of his t-shirt up to dry his face. 

“Hey,” Stensland said.

“Hmm,” said Clyde sleepily. 

He sat on the closed toilet lid the entire time, watching Stensland brush his teeth and begin his morning ritual, gargling mouthwash and slathering acne creams on his face. It was a bit embarrassing but Clyde stayed silent all throughout that it became sort of … relaxing, almost meditative. In the end, Stensland had shut the door behind him and stepped out of his clothes. His shower took longer than usual, and his knees ached on the tile, afterwards, leaving temporary welts on his skin. Staying on his knees made his bad back act up again—only seventeen and he was already besieged by old man pains. But still: it was worth it, even if he choked a little on Clyde’s cock and spat because he kept gagging. He shook his head as he dressed for school, buttoning up his school shirt and grabbing his tie form the hook behind the door, looping it around his neck as he took the stairs two at a time.

Clyde was already in the kitchen, helping Stensland’s mam set the table, chewing bacon with an open mouth. He smiled at Stensland, and leaned over to kiss him, pulling away just as fast before Stensland’s mam saw any of it. He resumed his bacon-chewing like nothing had even happened, seating himself at the table and pouring everyone a mug of tea. His hair was tied from his face in a messy bun that left bits of hair curling over his eyes like commas.

“You’re gonna be late for school,” Stensland’s mam said as they sat down for breakfast. 

Stensland smeared jam on his toast and shrugged one shoulder, hiding his smile as he held Clyde’s hand under the table. It felt illicit, somehow, more so than getting fucked in the guest room right across the hall from where she slept.

“I could walk you to school,” Clyde offered. “If you want.” They waited a beat to gauge Stensland’s mam’s reaction. She sighed and made a shooing motion at Clyde. “Oh, all right. Best be off then and get dressed. You on the other hand,” she pointed at Stensland. “ _Stay_.”

Stensland slumped in his seat obediently. As soon as Clyde was out of earshot, his mam sighed and took a sip of her tea. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Stensland,” she began and already Stensland knew where this was going. His face crumpled; he turned red to the tip of his ears and it was horrible, so horrible he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I know what you’ve been up to, don’t think I don’t, Stensy.”

“Mam!”

“All I’m saying is,” She shook her head. “Make sure to take care of yourself. You’re not a child anymore. Practice, you know, safe sex and all that. I could hear you from across the—” As soon as he could hear Clyde clomping down the stairs, Stensland stood and pressed a kiss to her cheek before grabbing his bag and making a mad dash out the door, Clyde in tow.

“Don’t forget to take an umbrella with you!”

Stensland waved without turning back and jogged down the sidewalk until he was a safe distance away. Clyde took several long strides to catch up to him; he’d brought the red umbrella Stensland’s mam always left hanging on the coat rack and raised his eyebrows at him in question. Stensland shook his head. He’d tell him when he was less embarrassed. He wanted to die. He was never going to have sex, ever again. No, that was a lie. He was just going to learn to be quiet about it.

Stensland peered up at the clouds: nothing new, the same newsprint grey. It was probably going to rain again. He buttoned up his coat to stave off the creeping chill, and blinked when Clyde bumped his shoulder against him. He was wearing an army-green jacket with the hood up and everything, like a complete knob. 

Stensland reached over and tugged it down, wincing when the motion pulled a muscle in his back.

“You all right?” said Clyde.

“Yeah, it’s just my back.” Stensland sniffed, and rubbed at it absently. Clyde’s hand joined his on his back and started to knead. Then he took Stensland’s bag and hefted it over his other shoulder, just like a proper boyfriend would, and they walked down the quiet path to Stensland’s school, shoulders brushing, not even holding hands, but Stensland had to bite his lip to keep from splitting his face with how hard he was trying not to smile. Clyde took his hand and kissed the back of it, before letting go when they had to dodge a couple of wayward cyclists. 

It started to rain halfway to school. Stensland blinked, tipping his face up to the sky, and was about to complain when Clyde opened the umbrella for him. Clyde smiled, faintly, even as it started to drizzle. 

“The weather’s always a bit shite this side of the pond,” Stensland said, feeling sullen as he stepped straight into a puddle. 

“That’s all right,” Clyde told him, still looking at him. “It’s not like I really mind.”

 


End file.
